


mother where art thou

by jennyquill



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Adoption, F/F, SuperCorp, but like quietly, it's kara/lena all the way bby, mostly a story about adoption, slow burn kara/lena
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:19:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennyquill/pseuds/jennyquill
Summary: lena embarks on a journey and kara is too good, too pure for this world. (lena and kara + the search for lena's birth mother)





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to read a story about adoption so i wrote one.

**an exposition.**

 

Kara tells Lena she’s adopted when they’re two martinis in at a dive bar on a Friday night.

“I just remember you told me that first day I met you and I’ve been wanting to tell you that I am too, so.” She adjusts her glasses nervously.

Lena has two options of how to proceed. Either she continues the conversation, opens up to Kara and goes further down the path of whatever it is between them, or she nods, smiles, and orders another drink.

The bartender reappears at that moment and Kara is waiting patiently, steadily, so Lena decides she can do both.

“You’ve got a good memory, Danvers,” she says, going for nonchalant.

Kara visibly relaxes, feels some of the awkwardness has slipped away. “I didn’t want to overstep or anything. It can be…” She gestures with her hands, looks a little lost but mostly cute.

“Weird?” Lena offers. “This is true. The path for normalisation can be a bitch sometimes, lack of dialogue and all.” There’s a bit of bitterness to her tone but Kara doesn’t argue. She picks up her own drink and takes a sizeable sip that leaves Lena wondering (not for the first time) what tolerance Kara’s been gifted with.

“I don’t know how to talk about it,” Kara confesses.

“Kara Danvers, reporter extraordinaire, doesn't know how to talk about something?”

Kara blushes just a bit. “Like you said, no dialogue.”

“So make your own.”

Kara considers Lena. “I think it’s good to start small. Talk to people like you about it.” Kara fumbles, reaches her hands out. “Not that I wanted to specifically talk to _you_ , but people like you. Us, I mean. Oh, you know what I mean.”

Lena laughs softly and gently places her hand on top of Kara’s. “I understand.”

Their hands linger for just a little while as Stevie Wonder distantly plays from a jukebox. Lena leans in, licks her lips.

“I don’t know how to talk about it either,” she says. It comes out in a whisper.

Kara interlocks their fingers. She smiles, and it’s a bright light against the dark.

“I guess we’ll find out how to talk about it. Together.”

Lena wants to smile back, wants to meet Kara’s unwavering goodness with something of her own. Instead, she squeezes Kara’s hand and hopes she gets the message.

  


**a.**

 

Lena is invited to Kara and Alex’s movie nights at least ten times a week; however, thanks to her heart-stoppingly busy schedule, she’s had to sadly turn down every offer with a weak promise of “next time” that both of them know won’t be fulfilled but humor that it might be.

So when an investor apologetically cancels their meeting at the last second, Lena finds herself with an unexpected free evening and an inkling for carbs and mindless television.

Thirty minutes and one outfit change later, she shows up at Kara’s door with a bag of pot stickers in one hand and a sixpack in the other. Lena only gets two knocks in before the door is swung open and she’s faced with a pajama-clad Kara.

“Hi,” Lena says, suddenly feeling breathless. Kara is dressed down in a t-shirt and flannel pants and yet she still has that unmistakable glow to her.

“Lena! We’re having a _Jane the Virgin_ rewatch,” Kara says. Behind Kara, Lena catches sight of a blob of brown swinging up from the couch.

“Lena,” Alex greets her. Another head pops up besides her.

“Hey,” Maggie says, all dimples and wavy hair.

“Pot stickers,” Kara exclaims and the bag is taken from Lena’s hand.

There’s a small, nagging part of Lena that’s un-explicitly disappointed that Kara’s not alone tonight but she pushes that thought aside as she steps over the threshold into the honey-warm aura that Kara’s apartment holds. She toes off her shoes, places her coat on the coatrack, her purse gets dropped by her shoes: it’s all routine at this point.

Alex and Maggie are tucked into each other on the couch as Jane and Petra argue on the television screen. Kara putters in the kitchen and Lena feels awkward in her socks and oversized sweater.

“Do you want anything?” Kara’s voice pulls her gaze away from the living room.

“Hmm?”

“Do you want a snack or something? We have pizza rolls.”

“You liar!” Alex says from her fort of blankets and Maggie. “You told me you ate them all.”

Kara reddens a little. “I did. But only like, a box.”

Lena smirks. “Pizza rolls sound lovely, thank you.”

Maggie snickers and Lena can hear Alex pouting.

“You better share,” she warns.

“Or what?” Lena raises an eyebrow. Alex smiles and Lena feels like she’s passed a test. The awkwardness melts just a bit.

The microwave door shuts with an excited whoosh and Kara is by her side with a plate of pot stickers. She silently offers the plate to her but Lena declines politely. Pot stickers and Kara are an entirely separate relationship.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Kara says. Tonight her hair is down and loose, flowing elegantly on her shoulders. The lighting is yellow and soft on her skin; Kara never was the type that needed a lot of make-up.

“Me too,” Lena says.

“Also, um,” Kara starts, suddenly breaking eye-contact. She bites her lip, leans in and lowers her voice. “I’ve been doing some research.”

“Oh. What kind of research?” Lena asks carefully, not really following.

“Like the kind we were talking about the other night.”

“Which night?” There were a lot of them.

“The one where you drank three Jack and Coke’s and asked me what conditioner I’ve been using.”

“Oh.” She has a feeling that Kara hasn’t been researching what types of hair products to try out.

“Yeah.” Kara’s got a gleam in her eye and Lena will have to get her back later. “So, I’ve been doing some research and I’ve found some movies I thought that we could watch together. If you want, that is.” She looks nervous again and Lena is starting to hate that she makes Kara react this way.

She’s never had someone to talk to about this stuff. She’s never even had as good of a friend as Kara. It’s only a tad bit overwhelming.

The microwave beep is loud and obnoxious and it tears Kara’s attention away from her. Alex yells something about fair food distribution but Lena doesn’t hear any of it.

Kara plates the food with her fingers like the pizza rolls are little candies and totally not scorchingly hot balls of carbs and sauce. Lena adds that to the list of growing quirks she needs to talk to Kara about at some point.

“Sorry,” Kara says when Lena hasn’t said anything. “I just - I thought, um.” She shakes her head and waves her hand in a dismissal fashion. “If you need anything, I’m here.” She balances her potstickers and hot pockets in one hand and reaches for the case of beer with her other.

“No, wait, you’ll drop something.” Lena takes the beer before she can and then follows Kara into the living room. “Kara.”

Kara turns back to her with an expression of so much patience it makes Lena want to cry.

Lena walks the three steps it takes to be closer to her. “What kind of movies did you find?”

Kara’s smile starts small and slow until it bursts like the sunrise. “Documentaries, mostly, but I thought they were worth a shot. There’s a lot of articles I found, too.”

Lena finds herself smiling back at her. “I’ll make room for next Thursday night.”

“Bring pot stickers.”

“Of course.”

 

  
**b.**  


Next Thursday comes with an early December snowfall and back to back meetings that make Lena wish she was less of an ambitious person.

She coaches herself through the humdrum of the day, tells herself that Kara will be waiting for her in a warm apartment with booze and food when this is all over.

All of her meetings happen exactly when they’re supposed to so Lena stays at the office well past ten. She sends her secretary home after the third meeting because hey, no crucial deals are being made, just a bunch of pasty old men trying to keep her on her toes.

“I must say Ms. Luthor, you’ve been doing this company a great service in this time of crisis,” one of the elder investors says after the last meeting concludes. By crisis, he means Lex and her mother. By service, he means Lena’s lack of ineptness.

Lena shakes his hand and smiles, all teeth and red lipstick that hasn’t faded or smudged after nine plus hours. A testament to her will, she thinks. “Thank you, Jones. I do try.”

“Your mother was the same way, and your brother, too. What a shame, isn’t it?”

“Certainly.” She knows this type talk. She hates this talk.

“I’m glad there’s a good Luthor out there. Keep up the great work. We’ll be talking again in about a month.” Jones takes his leave with the other suit and ties and then slowly, painfully, the room drains and Lena is finally left to breathe alone.

She packs her things immediately and is out the L-Corp doors in record speed. Despite the snow, she chooses to walk the way to Kara’s apartment.

Thoughts slosh around her brain like the car tires against the muddy snow:

A good Luthor.

Her heels are not made for snowfall and she’s starting to lose feeling in her small toe but she forges on, too wrapped up in the clogs of her head to stop.

Lena is a good Luthor, meaning that she’s distanced herself from her family enough to be considered a separate entity. Sovereignty.

Investors are pouring in from every angle. National City respects her. Supergirl even sees her as a friend. If someone had told her all these things would happen to her a year ago Lena would’ve called bullshit. But now, Lena looks around at the city glowing around her, and realizes. She’s done it.

She’s won.

Her mother used to tell her that her mind worked a mile a minute too fast for her to comprehend.

“Just like us Luthors,” Lillian would say. “Always a step ahead too many.” Lena sometimes wonders if she predicted their own downfall.

She crosses the street a beat too soon and a car honks at her angrily.

Not for the first time, Lena finds herself looking backwards as she moves forwards. It’s that annoying question she’s been asking herself since the beginning of time:

Who was Lena Luthor before she was a Luthor?

She shivers, this time not from the cold. A savory smell hits her nose and she remembers Kara’s warm apartment and a promise of pot stickers. Lena shakes her head, pulls herself out of her head, and goes to find the nearest Chinese take-out, tries to think of numbers and rational, tangible things.

Fifteen minutes and two toes transformed into ice-cubes later, Lena shows up at Kara’s door shivering like a wet dog.

Kara takes one look at her and says, “I was kidding about the pot stickers, oh my god Lena.”

“Kara.”

“Okay, maybe half kidding. But you should’ve taken a cab, good golly.”

“My toes are dead to the world, do you mind if I borrow socks?”

“Yes, of course, one moment.”

Lena walks into the apartment and immediately melts into its warmth. Of all the places she’s been in the world, Kara’s apartment feels the most like home. That thought scares her so she focuses on her toes instead.

Her heels come off and land on the hardwood with an icy thud, her purse tossed somewhere near them, and her coat hangs sloppily on a hook, drip-dropping onto the floor. Lena waddles over to the couch and throws herself down in the most unladylike, un-CEO manner. The couch is so soft, the TV light so comforting, the day so long, that Lena feels sleep seeping into her veins before she can stop it.

She feels someone drape a blanket over her, taking special care with wrapping her feet. A comforting hand rests on her shoulder and a kiss is placed on her temple, soft as a butterfly. She feels sated, safe, and then, she closes her eyes.

When she comes to, her body is tingling with the sensation of newfound warmth. Kara’s silhouette is glued to the screen and there is an almost empty pot sticker container resting on the coffee table. Lena groggily wipes at her eyes and slowly sits up.

“Hey,” Kara says quietly, unfixing her eyes from the screen. “I didn’t know if you had dinner so I saved you a pot sticker.” Lena melts a little more at the gesture.

“Thank you.” Lena picks up the lonely little pot sticker and munches on it. “What are you watching?”

“ _Twinsters_. It’s a documentary about these adopted twins who grow up on opposite sides of the world but find each other again.”

“Oh my god,” Lena brings a hand to her forehead. “That’s right, we were supposed to watch those movies. God, I’m so sorry.” Lena mentally kicks herself. She doesn’t want Kara to think that she doesn’t want to try. She does. She really does, she’s just doing a really bad job at it.

Kara, being the ever emotionally intelligent being that she is, pauses the film and comes to sit beside Lena. She wraps an arm around her and rubs reassuring circles on her back.

“It’s okay, Lena. I’ve got a lot of research that’ll take us at least two more movie nights after this.”

Lena smiles at the fact that Kara’s been planning more movie nights with exclusively her in mind. It sends a different kind of warmth straight through her belly and down to her toes. Her toes -

“Hey, I can move my toes again,” Lena notices happily. Kara laughs and then makes an _ooh_ noise and moves to get something on the right of Lena. She has to reach over her and Lena can smell how sweet she smells and her head spins.

“Here’s some socks. You fell asleep and I thought it would be kind of creepy of me to put them on your feet for you.” Kara hands them to her and Lena accepts them with a smirk.

“How considerate,” she teases. She puts on the wooly socks (colored pink and yellow with dancing walruses on them) and enjoys the feel of the material on her feet.

The lighting is dark, but Lena is sure that Kara is blushing. She clears her throat and leans back.

“We can watch this or another movie, or, if you just want to chill without all this adoption stuff that’s cool too,” she says.

Lena considers her options. One part of her likes the idea of her and Kara watching movies, just the two of them. The other part is intrigued by the movies Kara’s found. Either way, Lena finds that it’s all a conversation about adoption, whether it be subtle or not. And isn’t that what Lena told Kara that night at the bar? Start a conversation.

“This twin movie sounds interesting,” she says and Kara’s eyes light up. “Do you have anymore alcohol?”

 

**c.**

 

Lena was adopted when she was four years old. This isn’t a particularly young age but it’s not a particularly old age either.

She remembers her foster mother, Judy, in pieces. Lena remembers colors. Shapes. Sounds. A lady in a green knit sweater bandaging another girl’s knee as Lena holds the girl’s hand. The smell of sea salt and cigarette smoke on a hot summer night.

On a whim, Lena does a Google search for Judy.

She gets ten pages of women named Judy Green, most of results not fitting Lena’s memory of her foster mother. They’re all too young, too old, the wrong ethnicity or occupation. Judy seems to have resisted the social media age because Facebook and LinkedIn come back with empty hands.

Lillian never disclosed any information on Lena’s adoption to her. For all Lena knows, she was dropped from the sky by a stork with a note tied to her leg that said “take care.”

Lena could call her mother, question her on all she knows about Lena’s patchy past. They could be like a normal mother and daughter and exchange their tender thoughts and feelings. Lillian could be a soft mother. Lena scoffs at that thought.

The sun is just starting to set when she gets an idea.

She calls her secretary, tells her that she’s taking an early leave. She’s been working late for a long time, she can afford it. Lena can hear the surprise in her secretary’s voice but she doesn’t question Lena’s decision.

“Have a good evening, Ms. Luthor,” is all she says before hanging up.

Lena smiles to herself and takes out her phone to call Kara.

“I will.”

  
  
  
**d.**  


Two weeks before Christmas and Lena and Kara have gone through more than half of Kara’s research.

“You’ve gotten really into this,” Kara says, munching on her slice of pizza.

Lena only nods, too engrossed in the article she’s reading. “Did you know that adoptees are four times more likely to attempt suicide?”

Kara chokes on a piece of pepperoni. Lena claps her on the back.

“No, oh Rao,” Kara says. Lena ignores the other half of her comment (they’ve _really_ got to talk about all these things they gloss over). “That’s, that’s terrible.”

Lena nods again, clicks out of the article. “How many more movies do we have left?”

Kara looks at her in an odd way. “Are you okay?” she asks.

Lena blinks, surprised at Kara’s avoidance on the subject of movies. “Yes? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just wondering.”

A beat. Lena flicks through more articles. Kara leafs through a book about adoptive mothers and their daughters. The pages still in her hand.

“It’s just, you’ve been kind of,” Kara pauses, searches for her word. “Aggressive. In this whole research thing.”

“It’s interesting,” Lena says. “I didn’t know a whole world of information was available to me. I’m just catching up is all.”

Kara is still looking at her in that odd way. “Right,” she says slowly.

Lena rolls her eyes, toes Kara’s foot affectionately. “Kara, I’m fine, really. I’m glad that we’re doing this together. I would’ve never ventured into it.”

Kara softens, but still skeptical. “Alright,” she resigns. Lena knows she hasn’t convinced her.

They read about mothers and daughters and sons in silence.

//

Later:

“Kara.” Lena nudges Kara’s arm to get her attention.

“Yeah?” Kara whips around, frosting on her lower lip. Lena wipes it away with her thumb absentmindedly and Kara blushes. She’s got to stop blushing around Lena.

They’ve decided to bake a cake because it’s Friday night and neither one of them feel like going out. Also, cake making is what you do when you have a friend like Kara Danvers.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” Lena says. Kara chuckles.

“You’re always thinking.”

“I’ve been seriously thinking.”

“How serious? Scale of one to ten.”

“Eleven.”

Kara looks up from pouring the batter into the pan. “Wow,” is all she says. “Okay then. What have you been thinking about?”

Lena leans up against the counter, cradling her drink in one hand. “My birth mother.”

“What about her?”

“I want to find her.”

Kara drops the batter bowl. It splatters everywhere and Kara squeals.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she says when she sees the state of Lena’s shirt. “I’ll let you borrow one of mine but hold up, just a minute.” She puts her hand out in front of her, blinks once. “You want to find your birth mother?”

“Yes.”

“You said you had a closed adoption?”

“Yes.”

“And you have no idea who your birth mom is or where to find her?”

“Nope.”

“So, you’re just going to up and go find her?”

“Well, I hope to have some sort of plan. Also, a partner to look with.” Lena looks to Kara pointedly. Kara’s eyebrows knit in confusion for an adorable second before realisation dawns.

“Oh. Lena. Oh, I get it now,” Kara says. She goes and fetches a rag from the cupboards, wets it under the sink and then begins to clean up the mess. Lena frowns.

“What?”

Kara wipes the counter clean. “Is this why you’ve been so into researching lately?” Lena’s frown deepens.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No! No, I’m glad you’re embracing it.” Kara puts her hands up.

“But…”

“But what?”

“There was a ‘but’ to your voice.”

“There was no such ‘but’.”

“Okay.” Pause. “You just don’t seem,” Lena fishes around for the words, “happy, I guess?”

“Lena, I’m really happy you discovered this about you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled that you want to do this,” Kara reassures her. “It’s just…”

Lena feels a lump grow in her throat and braces herself against the counter.

Kara’s sigh is a big one and it racks through her whole body. She meets Lena’s eyes with uncharacteristic steeliness. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Lena relaxes her grip, finds herself shaking her head. “No, Kara, I know. I know this isn’t a fairytale. I’m not looking for the end of the rainbow or anything.”

“I know that you know. You’re too smart not to know. No, I’m not - that’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is it? I know that I want this.”

Usually Kara’s an open book, so the fact that Lena can’t read her face is off-putting.

“Sometimes the truth doesn’t always mean closure.” When she says it, Kara sounds like someone much older than she is. It makes Lena wonder.

Lena puts her drink down and steps towards Kara, gently puts her hand on top of Kara’s. “Kara,” she says. “Did you...did you find something out about your birth mom?” She cringes after she says it. She overstepped. She knows it.

Kara looks away. “Sort of. It didn’t feel like I got answers.” She looks grim under the kitchen lights, mouth a thin, pink line. Lena can’t imagine what’s going through her head, can’t imagine what she had found out.

There’s a horrible, immature part of her that wants to ask and pry deeper, to find out what she’s known, but the more refined part of her brain holds her back. Lena takes a moment and lets the air between them cool down. There’s tension where there’s never tension and it’s making Lena feel weird. She holds out her hand for the rag. “Let me,” she says. “I was partly responsible for the mess.”

This makes Kara smile a little. “Not really. I’m just a klutz sometimes.”

“Not all the time.” Lena pokes at her hip.

“I just want you to tell me that this is what you want. That your heart’s into it.” Kara meets her eyes again and the blue in her eyes is shining.

“I promise that this is what I want and that my heart is into it.” Lena levels her stare. This is true. This is what she has to do.

Kara examines her and finds what she needs from Lena. She reaches up to push her glasses up her nose.

“Alrighty then. Let’s salvage what’s left of this cake, get you a new shirt, and then start planning our trip.” She sets off to work on the cake bit but Lena backtracks.

“Hold up. _Our_ trip?”

Kara throws the dirty rag into the sink. “Of course. You didn’t think I’d let you go on a life-changing trip by yourself now, did you?”

Lena doesn’t say anything. She crosses the distance between them and pulls Kara into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she whispers into Kara’s neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Kara hugs her tighter.

“Of course.”

 

  
  
**e.**

 

 

When Lena Luthor has an idea, she doesn’t stop working until it comes to fruition. Just ask any of her employees.

One week before Christmas and they’ve assembled a skeleton of a plan.

 

  1. Call Lena’s mom and ask for any information she knows about Lena’s adoption.
  2. Go to Oregon.



 

Lena looks over Kara’s shoulder as she walks by. “No,” she says. “Mother won’t know anything. Also, I want to keep her out of this.”

Kara doesn’t argue with that. She starts again.

 

  1. Go to Oregon.



 

Kara tilts her head, examines the new plan.

“Lena,” she calls from her perch at Lena’s breakfast bar. “Do you know what town you’re from?”

“Port Noonan,” is Lena’s response from her bedroom.

Kara nods even though she’s the only one in the room. She edits the plan.

 

  1. Go to Port Noonan in Oregon.



 

She tilts her head again.

“Lena,” she calls again. “We should find your foster mother first.”

Lena comes out of the bedroom carrying an old photo album. “My thoughts exactly.”

“It’s unlikely she’d have any information on your birth mom but it’s a place to start. Also, what is this for?” Kara eyes the dusty relic. Lena blows a cobweb off of it.

“A photo album I took from my mother’s place two years ago,” Lena says proudly. “She keeps pictures of people she’s disowned from the family in here.” She opens the album and they’re both hit with the smell of unmistakeable, unwanted nostalgia. “Look. I’m on the first page.”

She points to a picture of a meek looking girl sitting at a table full of what Kara assumes to be as outcasted relatives.

“Wow,” Kara says, eyebrows shooting up so far it’s almost comical. “Lena, this is -”

“Ridiculous?” Lena finishes. She laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, tell me about it. But that was mom, always one for dramatic flair.”

“I was going to say ‘mean spirited,’ but that works too.” Kara stares at the picture of young Lena. She covers her budding laugh with her hand. “Puberty served you well.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “It’s second puberty that you should thank. That, and the fact that I finally learned how to match colors.” She sits down next to Kara and starts flipping pages.

Kara watches as the pages turn and all the faces that Lillian Luthor deemed horrible fly by. Lena shows up a few more times and this makes Kara visibly angry.

“I just don’t get how she could’ve been so horrible to you,” Kara says.

Lena shrugs. “I’ve been so bullied by that woman that I don’t even want to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“She never deserved it,” Kara grits out. Lena cards her hand through Kara’s hair soothingly.

“Relax, tiger,” she jokes. “You don’t need to go beating her up for me.”

Kara makes a face. “I should.” She thinks for a moment. “So as much as I enjoy seeing your awkward teenage years and exiled aunts and uncles, I have to wonder what it is you’re looking for?”

Lena keeps flipping through the album. “My foster mother, Judy, gave my parents a picture of my foster family when they adopted me.”

Kara perks up. “Lena, that’s amazing. I thought you said that your mother didn’t have anything from your foster mother.”

“I said that my mother didn’t know anything, which she doesn’t. But she did keep this picture from me because she thought that I’d go running back to Oregon if I knew about it. She wasn’t totally wrong.”

“How did you know about the picture then?”

“My father showed it to me, only once. He wouldn’t give it to me, though, as much as I had begged. Even my mother had power over him.” Lena flips a few more pages and grows irritated. “I know that this is the only place where she would’ve kept it - ah, here!” She pulls out a withered Kodak photo of a gaggle of six kids and a middle-aged woman in a green turtleneck sweater. Lena triumphantly holds the photo up and grins.

“Ah ha!” Kara claps and grins back. Then, she gets a confused look on her face. “What are we going to do with it?”

Lena feels elated, feels like she just cracked the code on some high tech safe. “We take this photo around Port Noonan and ask the locals if they recognise this woman.”

“That way we’re not searching in the dark,” Kara follows. She’s grinning again. “Lena, it’s just like in those movies!”

“All that research is paying off, eh?”

Kara laughs. “Well, this is a good start.” She types a new edit into the plan. It now reads:

 

  1. Go to Port Noonan in Oregon and find Lena’s foster mom.



 

They both stare at the blinking cursor after the period.

“It’s a short plan,” Kara admits.

“It’s a thin plan.”

“We can always Google her.”

“Tried that already. Nothing.”

“Well, we do need to go to Oregon. Maybe look through the birth files there, see what the state has registered. Google would help with that, too.”

“But that takes the fun out of it,” Lena pouts.

“Then we go to Oregon,” Kara says. “And we take it from there.”

Lena wraps an arm around Kara, who leans into her. They adjust themselves so Kara’s head is resting in the crook of Lena’s shoulder. They stay like that, staring at a screen with an itinerary that may or may not change the course of one of their lives.

Lena breathes out. “I guess we’re going to Oregon.”

 


End file.
